


Regina, September 1998

by fearthainn



Series: TPDGA [3]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-09
Updated: 2002-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearthainn/pseuds/fearthainn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another TPDGA-verse snippet. No spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regina, September 1998

_Regina, September 1998_

Nobody ever came to visit Masie, that could be depended on. She generally had the place to herself, a whole alley where no one ever went. Everyone 'round here knew it was hers, and she'd been here forever so they left her well enough alone, and she was grateful for it. She liked her alley. It wasn't much, just barely half a short city block before it ended at the back of the old Y, but it was clean and it was right around the corner from the shelter, where that nice Gracie always asked after her cats and gave her stale loaf-ends to feed to the birds.

So when those two boys landed in her alley with a bang and a crash and all that shouting, long after the drunks had all gone home from the bar, she was pretty upset. They woke Masie right up out of a sound sleep with their thumping and yelling and she couldn't help but watch to make sure they didn't do any damage. Her eyes went wide as the bigger one pushed the littler one to the ground and kicked him in the ribs. That didn't seem very fair to Masie - after all, he was just a boy, wasn't he? Poor thing didn't deserve that. The bigger one though, he didn't care, by the look on his face. Masie recognized that look, she did. Her boy Larry, he'd wore that look often enough before he left home for good, that mean, shut-down look that said 'don't mess with me'. She guessed the littler boy had never seen that look before, or he'd have gone and steered clear of Larry.

Masie clucked her tongue quietly. Boys nowadays didn't seem to have any sense. She could have told that little one that Larry was bad news. Never could control that boy when he got in a temper. But there - he was going, silhouetted against the mouth of the alley, the streetlight making his shadow look huge. The little one was just lying there on the ground, and Masie thought it was just plain mean, Larry up and leaving his friend there like that.

She wondered if maybe he'd just leave on his own, but he didn't seem like he wanted to. Just lying there in a heap, cluttering up her alley like that...it just burned her up, the way young people were these days. No respect. Masie muttered under her breath and glared. It didn't make him go away though, he just kept lying there, kind of shifting every now and again and making little noises under his breath like a baby bird. And really, he was such a poor little thing, all alone there. Masie wondered if maybe she shouldn't check on him.

She levered herself up and found her stick, using it to push herself to her feet. "Old bones," she muttered under her breath, as she always did. "Old bones, too old for this, old, old, bones."

Masie made her way down her alley to where the boy was lying and poked him with her stick. He curled away from her, turning his face into the crook of his arm. Masie shook her head. "Come on now. You can't stay here." He had strange white hair, and for a moment Masie was afraid that maybe he was a ghost, come to haunt her. They usually stayed out of the alley, but you never knew. She poked him again, just to be sure, and sure enough he seemed pretty solid.

In fact, he groaned and tried to roll away, pushing himself up on one arm so Masie finally got a look at him. He was pale and thin and his nose was too sharp for his face, and one eye was already swelling shut where Larry had hit him. Masie tsked and bent down so they were face to face. "Here now, you ok?"

"What does it look like?" he muttered, and Masie blinked in surprise. Why, he sounded just like old Jim! Her Ralph had met Jim in the war, and Jim had moved over from England in the 50's with his wife, and they both sounded just like that. What had his son's name been? Max, that was it. It seemed strange that he'd be here, but it was a strange world. You just never knew.

"Can you sit up?" she asked him. He looked like he wasn't sure, pressing cracked and bleeding lips together in pain as he pushed himself up a little more, one arm wrapped around his middle. "There we go. Looks like Larry got you good, didn't he?"

"Larry?" he gasped. "Who the hell is Larry?"

"I've said, time and time again, Larry's got a temper and don't get him riled up, 'cause nobody can control him when he's angry," Masie said. She shook her head sadly. "Such a temper." She reached forward to turn the boy's chin, aiming to get a better look at the bruising on his cheek, but he jerked away from her.

"If you mean the man who just tried to kill me, his name wasn't Larry," Max said. "It was - " he broke off and glanced toward the mouth of the alley. "It doesn't matter. I should go."

"Now, now, Max, you just stay here," Masie said, alarmed. "You can't go anywhere, looking like that. You just sit, and we'll get you cleaned up in the morning."

"My name isn't Max," Max said. He made as if to stand up, wincing as he tried to lever himself to his feet.

"Oh, now," Masie said with concern. "Maybe you should just stay here. Head wounds do that sometimes, you know. Make you all confused."

"_I'm_ not confused, _you_ are," Max said rebelliously, but he sank back to the pavement, his eyes closing wearily. "You're mad."

"No, no," she said, just as soothing as she could. "I'm not mad at all. Don't you worry." He cracked one eye to look at her, like he didn't quite believe her. But how could she be angry with him? Poor little lamb. "Don't you worry. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see."

Max sighed and tilted his head back against the bricks, shutting his eyes. "I want to go home," he said in a very small voice.

"Oh, honey." Masie reached out and patted his bruised hand. "Don't we all."

~*~

She took him to see Gracie first thing the next morning, ignoring the boy's muttered protests. Didn't Masie always do what was best for her boys? Of course she did, and Gracie would help him, like she helped the cats and the birds and all those ragged people who showed up at the shelter in need of food and things. Gracie was good people.

Gracie seemed surprised to see Masie there that early, and she got out of her car hurriedly when Masie waved. "Masie, what - oh my! What happened?" She said that to the boy, who did look worse in the light of day, his face all purple and blue like that.

"This is Max," Masie said, by way of introduction. Max shook his head sullenly, but he'd always been a sullen boy. Truth be told, Masie had never liked him much. "Larry beat him up last night, poor thing. You can fix him up though, can't you Gracie?"

Gracie didn't waste much time, unlocked the door to the shelter quick and ushered them inside. She led them both to a room Masie'd never seen before, tucked in the back behind the cafeteria. It was small and white and looked a bit like a doctor's office. Gracie pushed the boy down into a chair and rummaged in a cupboard, coming up with a brown bottle and a handful of cotton balls and bandages.

The boy looked like he might protest, but Gracie was stronger than she looked, and just shoved him right back down in that chair. She uncapped the bottle and put a cotton ball over the mouth, tilting it to soak the cotton.

"What's your name?" she asked the boy, as if Masie hadn't already told her.

"Draco," he said sullenly as Gracie began cleaning the cuts on his temple and cheekbone. Masie tsked and shook her head disapprovingly. She didn't know when Max had become such a liar, but if his mother knew...

"Who did this?" Gracie asked. She dabbed at a cut on the boy's lip, and he hissed and jerked back. He didn't answer, though, so Masie did it for him as Gracie got him cleaned up a bit.

"It was Larry," she said. "Beat him right up, I told that boy, don't you go messing with my Larry when he's in a mood like that, he's got a temper on him, he does, but no one ever listens to me anymore."

The boy shook his head but Gracie waved him off. And well she should - after all, hadn't Masie seen the whole thing? Gracie rested her hand on Masie's knee gently. Masie hated it when Gracie did that - made her feel confused. "Masie, honey, don't you remember? Larry's dead now. He's been dead for years."

"Oh, I know that honey," Masie said to reassure her. She did hate to make Gracie worry. "I know. He's been dead for years and years now, hasn't he?"

Gracie nodded, but she still looked sad. Masie would have said more, but Gracie was turning to the boy now. "I'm sorry," she said to him. "Larry was one of her sons...he died, but Masie gets confused sometimes. Listen, why don't you stay here for a while? You can shower, and I can probably find some clean clothes for you, something to eat."

The boy didn't look too happy about that, even though he sure could use a good meal. Skin and bones, he was. But Gracie was good at convincing people, and after all, the food was good. She wondered if she should tell Gracie that he was a little cracked - but Masie reckoned Gracie would figure that out for herself after a while. Poor boy.


End file.
